Regrets
by spxrk
Summary: The scarlet guard has won the war. Mare and Cal are married, the king and queen of Norta. But it's not quite a happy ending for Mare.
1. Cold

"... Thank you, citizens of Norta." Cal finishes. I have to admit, I zoned out for most of his speech. He droned on about victory, equality, and unity for at least thirty minutes. My back hurt from sitting up so straight on my throne, and what was once an encouraging squeeze of Cal's hand, has turned into a white knuckled death grip. The cameras stay on for a moment, then click off. I sigh in relief, and Cal snatches his hand away, rubbing it. "Ow, Mare, I think you bruise the bone." I roll my eyes. There are dozens of silver healers around, ready to tend to his every need. Pain doesn't matter to theses people.

I don't think I can take it anymore. The council meetings, the speeches. The fact that the whole country is looking at me and him, their exiled prince returned, and a red scandal redeemed. I thought this would be easy. I thought I could just be queen, and Cal's wife. I thought we'd have something like a normal relationship. As normal as it could be, anyway. But Cal's grandmother is nagging me for hiers, and Cal, well, isn't really ever around. When I was with Maven, I thought I would never be more alone. How wrong I was. This is a million times worse. To be always seated next to the one you love, but for them to not even notice you. I suppose this is how maven felt. I feel a pang of pity, but quickly shove it away. He doesn't deserve anything from me, especially not pity.

But I did let him live. Everyone else was glad to have him executed when we captured him and brought down his kingdom. But for some reason, I spoke out against killing him. Maybe it was because I was tired of killing. Or maybe it was because part of me still loves the fiction. Either way, he was a part of my past. Evil or not, I couldn't just stand by and watch him die.

Cal shakes my shoulders. "Mare? Mare?" he says, but his voice is distant. Damn it, I did it again. Got so caught up in my thoughts, that the world sort of melted away. It's getting harder and harder to live in the present now. My mind just keeps folding in on itself, drawing me into it's darkest corners.

"Sorry," I say.

"You're okay?" he asks, and a bit of genuine worry flashes across his face. Just for a moment. He has better things to do that babysit me. Running a country, stuff like that. I could help, but they don't care. I'm a red, I'm a woman.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say. I'm not. I'm not fine. I don't know if I ever will be again.

I walk down to the dungeons. Taking a roundabout path like I always do, avoiding camaras when I can. Turning them off is just like leaving a trail off muddy footprints. Everyone knows it's me.

Blue eyes stare at me from a cell I visit everyday. They're dull and empty, missing that spark that always was there. His cheeks are hollow, and there are dark circle under his eyes. His hair is messy, curly and untamed. He looks like I do, under the makeup. Under the grooming of this court.

He doesn't say anything, and I don't either. We never talk. We just stare at each other, wondering how life would have been if things were different. He's evil, but so am I. We both killed. So much blood, on our hands combined. Red, silver. His mind is twisted by his mother, and mine by what this world did to me, and what I did to fight it. We're all monsters. None of us are innocent in this war.

I know he doesn't deserve my pity. But coming down here, I don't feel alone. Because out of everyone, I can relate to Maven the most. I don't do this for him. I do it for me.

He does something he's never done before. He smirks. And it's all wrong. He has Cal's smile. I don't know how I never noticed that before.

Maven reaches his hand out though the bars. Hesitantly, I take it. It's cold, but the cold doesn't seem to bother me.

I should stop coming here. I have everything I've ever wanted. I'm married to Cal, we won the rebellion, and most of my family is still alive. And still...

"Goodbye, Maven." I whisper, and drop his hand.

I run up the steps, taking them two at a time. I want Cal. I need Cal.

I find him sitting in a council, talking to some generals, red and silver. Before, the sight would have made be overcome with joy. Reds and silvers, sitting together as equals. But I just walk in, straight faced. Everyone stares at me.

"Tiberius." i say, my voice exactly how lady blanos wanted. Cal stands, startled. "A word, please."

When we're out, I hug him. He stiffens for a second, but then softens putting his arms around me.

"Cal," I say into his chest, my voice muffled. He reads me.

"Did you interrupt my important meeting for a hug?" He asks, mildly annoyed.

"No. have dinner with me tonight." i say. "Pleae."

"You know I'm busy."

"You know we're married."

"Fine."

"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me."


	2. Ghosts

Cal sits at a small table across from me. His posture is regal, he is a silver tonight. This is not the Cal I fell in love with, but it's Cal. I should be grateful I get to spend at least _some_ time alone with him. A red servant scurries in with plates of food, the quickly retreats. I've told Cal to send them all home many times, but old habits die hard. To all the silvers, really, us reds are still inferior.

For some reason, Cal can't bring himself to meet my eyes. He pushes his food around with his fork absentmindedly. Like me, he should be happy. We should be rejoicing his taking of the throne and the victory of the scarlet guard. But as an equal Norta grows closer to becoming a reality, Cal and I grow farther apart.

"Listen, Mare." Cal says, still staring at his food. "I have things to get done… If you're not going to say anything I'll just-"

"No!" I cry out. "No. Don't go. Please don't go." I take his hand. "I'm your wife. I can help you, I can-"

Now it's his turn to cut me off. "I don't think that's the best idea. The silvers are still very riled up. Change isn't easy, Mare. They won't take well to a red being involved in such important matters. Even with," He pauses, and waves his hands around, gesturing, as is that helps explain anything. He takes in my puzzled face. "Everything that's happened."

I do my best not to shout. To cause a scene, or fry all the lightbulbs in the palace. Still, sparks dance across my hands, begging to be let loose. I force them away. "I won't be cast aside. I won't be some political pawn for you to move around. I will not be _used._ Never again." I say, my voice soft, but firm as steel. During life at court, my silver voice has been perfected. "I'm coming to all the council meetings, and all the negotiations. Everywhere you go, I'll go. I will not speak from some stupid script you've formulated, or stay silent. I will say what's on my mind, I will speak for my people. This country can no longer be completely silver led. And if you're not okay with that, well, there can always be another rebellion. A new king"

Cal slumps. Really, he has no choice. Cal loves me, despite being always busy, and never spending anytime with me. And he'll respect my wishes. "Fine." He mutters, defeat glinting in his eyes.

We finish our dinner in complete silence. As soon as I finish, I simply stand up and stalk out.

In my sleep, I'm stalked by ghosts. Ghosts of people I've killed, ghosts of people I let die. These dreams haunt me every night. Only once has Cal asked me about them. I haven't brought it up since then. Sometimes, Maven joins the chorus of ghosts. He isn't dead, but he might as well be, wasting away in the cells, kept alive by my strange pity, and Cal's hope that he can be fixed. But I know there's no fixing Maven. He is what his mother made him, but that's also just who he is. A monster. A broken boy. A part of a story we're all part of, but no one quite understands. We all know his destiny isn't to rot in a cell forever. But we don't quite know what his destiny is. If Jon knows, he won't tell us. My theory is that even Jon can't see Maven's future. It's too twisted, too jumbled.

When I wake, I bolt upright, in cold sweat. Cal doesn't move. He sleeps like rock.

I try to go back to sleep, to shake my dreams. But there's no point. I lie awake, with his eyes ingrained in my mind. Cold, hollow, empty. Blue, burning, yet cold. Maven's eyes are not ones you can just forget. They stay with you, forever.

I have to get away from here, before I go crazy.

I have to stay here, or nothing will change, despite all I've already done.

I have to do something.

Still in my nightgown, I escape to the corridors. Away from Cal's constant heat, I can breathe easier. I break into a steady jog, running through the hallways. It's been so long since I've gone on a run.

I go where my feet take me. Until I'm at the top of the stairs leading to the cells. I pause, for what seems like ages. Then, slowly, I descend.

The cold of the stone stings my bare feet for a moment, then it passes. I stand in front of him. To my surprise, he's awake, staring at me. At least Maven can meet my eyes. At least he can look at me for more than five seconds before turning away in shame.

I stand there, looking stupid. My hair is a mess, and I bet there are dark circles under my eyes. I bet I look just as awful as I feel.

"Mare." He says, breaking the ever constant silence that is our norm. "How nice, you've come to visit me on my birthday."

I don't know what to say. And my mouth always moves faster than my brain. "One question." He looks puzzled. "A question. You get one question." What seems like ages ago, Maven gave me one question for my birthday. He seems to remember, as understanding flashes over his face.

"Mare." He says again. "Did you ever love me?"

I step back, as if he had just slapped me.

"Did I…" I trail off. "Did I ever love you?"

He nods.

"Yes."

"Still?"

"I-" I catch myself. He caught me off guard. "One question. Only one."

Then I run back up the stairs, back to my room, back to Cal. Because I feel cold. Very cold. And only his fire can stop my heart from freezing.


	3. Demons

Finally, I'm okay with the cameras on me. Because today I'm not reading from some silver elite formulated script. I'm making a speech. My own speech. And Cal will be there, by my side.

We sit in our thrones. They are somewhere between the ornate thrones that Elara and Tiberius the VI used and Maven's plain silent stone throne. Cal's is iron, shined to look like silver, and mine is iron as well, studded with rubies. They mark who we are. Silver King, red Queen. Opposites in every way, but somehow, united.

I grasp his hand in mine, suddenly nervous. His steady warmth hold me still like an anchor. A cameraman motions for me to begin, so I do.

"Citizens of Norta. We have worked long and hard to bring this country into equality. On both sides, blood has been spilt to win this bond. A bond of red and silver. Apart, our country was divided, and weak. But together, we are strong. If other countries disagree with us, we are strong enough and willing to fight back. No longer is Norta weak. I'm sure many of you disagree, especially silvers. How could reds be equal? How, when silvers are gods? Well, I have news." I restrain a smile as I hold up my hand. Sparks run along it. "Many of you think this is a trick. Many of you lie to ourselves, to save what is left of your pride. A red with abilities, you think. How could that be? Silvers, you were not born to rule. Reds, you were not born to serve. Do you think it is impossible for us to work together? To view each other as equals? Silver blood runs through your king's viens. Red blood runs through mine. And yet we sit as equals. As your queen, I ask you, do the same. As your queen, I command you, relive all red servants from their posts. Mistreatment of reds in anyway will be punished. Thank you, Nortans. May we forever stand united." The camaras cut. Cal just stares at me for a moment, then kisses me on the forehead.

"I knew you had some politician in you somewhere." He laughs. Then his face goes all serious. "I'm sorry about that dinner, by the way. I was acting like, I don't know, Maven." He tries to smile but it looks more like a grimace. I, on the other hand, nearly jump back in shock at the mention of Maven. Cal doesn't know I've visited him, and I don't think he'll be happy if he finds out.

I frown. "Yeah."

"Speaking of… that," He pauses, and places his hand on my collar bone. I fight the urge to instinctively shy away. "You should really deal with this." I start to speak, but he cuts me off. "I know, you keep it to remember how… awful… he was, but I don't want to see my brother's mark on you everytime, you know…"

"I know. I just- not right now, okay?"

"Sure." he says, casually brushing it off. But I can see the discomfort in his eyes.

"It's going to be okay, Cal. We won." He meets my gaze for a moment, and the uncertainty is clear in his eyes.

"Sometimes, I'm not so sure. We all-" His voice breaks. "We all lost someone close to us. How is that victory?" I know he means Maven. His younger brother, that he couldn't save. No matter how much he should hate Maven, he holds on to him. Partially out of guilt I guess. Just like me. It's guilt that ties the three of us together. A broken boy, a red queen, and a sentimental king. Together, we've written a tragedy.

"It's victory, Cal, because we survived." I say. "We survived, and we're together. Things aren't great now, but it'll get better. I promise."

"I promise too."

It's 8 months ago, the final battle for control of Norta. Lightning, everywhere. Not just my own. Blue lightning pummels the ground in deadly bolts, and green and white lightning flash to my right. People are screaming, and smoke and fog are everywhere. Along with the fire to match that smoke. It swirls in a blaze, overhead. It's more like chaos that a battle.

Someone is suddenly by my side, fighting next to me. Fire blazes from him. "I have to find him." Cal says.

"Be careful," I hear myself say. "I can't lose you. Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise." Then he disappears into the grey.

The battle rages on for what seems like days, but Cal doesn't come back. The smoke clears, but he still doesn't come back.

Then I see someone. But it's wrong. Everything's wrong. The man wears a twisted crown, wright from iron. His hands are dripping with blood.

And when he comes closer, I see he's not a man, but a boy. A boy with piercing blue eyes, and a twisted smile to match his crown.

"Mare!" Someone shouts through the haze, but it barely reaches me. They shout my name again, and I feel heart, pulsing and panicked.

My eyes snap open, to see golden ones staring back at me.

Nightmare?" Cal asks.

"Something like that." I mutter, shaking. He puts his arm around me, and his warmth slowly stops the shaking.

"I have them too, you know. About him. Maven." Cal says.

So we're both haunted by the same demons.

"Get a healer."

"What?" Cal asks, confused."

"Get. A. Healer."

Cal asks no more questions, and returns moments later with a girl about my age. "What can I do for you, my lady?" She asks.

I pull down a corner of my shirt to remove the M brand. The healer girl winces when she sees it, but places he hands on my collarbone. Although it was just a scar, I feel the cooling relief as if a giant wound had been healed.

"Thank you." I tell the girl. "You can go."


	4. Monsters

The backlash of my speech is bad, but expected. Silvers riot, lash out at nearby reds, and crowd around the palace gates, screaming angry complaints. It's like they don't realize a war has already been fought over this. And that we won.

But it's not all bad. For every silver riot, there is a red celebration. A red servant, finally gone home to their families. A feeling that there really could be equality one day. It feels good to have finally done something that feels like progress. It's a rocky road ahead, but one we have to take as a county to get through this.

I look at myself in the mirror, and see a new person. It's almost like I've finally made a tentative peace with myself. And the brand. It no longer peeks out from my clothing whenever I want to wear something that shows the barest bit of skin. It being gone marks another kind of peace. I can wear bracelets, jewelry, and won't immediately think of my captivity. There are nightmares, bad thoughts, moments of panic, yes. But although there still there, they occur less often. I just need something to get my mind off it all. Every morning I train, with Cal when he can, by myself if he can't. I take part in the politics, sit in on councils. I want to get reds involved in government, but Cal insists it's too soon. Despite how much I wanted too, I didn't push him on the subject. I don't want him to reconsider his decision to let me be involved.

But I am the queen. And queens don't need permission from kings. I form shaky alliances with silver nobles who were previously rebel sympathizers, and help them setup elections in the region of the country they govern. Slowly, I'm doing things on my own. Soon, I'll have to confint Cal about it. Soon, but not yet.

After a council meeting about building more docking space in Harbor Bay, Cal stops me before I leave. Once everyone is gone, grabs my hands, and looks into my eyes.

"Mare." He says softly.

It's hard not to laugh at his poor attempt to be romantic. "What?" I ask.

"I'm really sorry." He mutters.

Any laughter in me died. "Cal, please tell me. What is it?"

"I have to go away for a bit."

"A bit, as in how long?"

"A month or more."

I do my best not to snap at him, but it comes out harshly. "What? And I'm guessing you can't tell me where, either." The look in his eyes tells me I'm right. "I thought we could trust each other. I thought we didn't ever want to leave each other again." The thought of losing him, of anything bad happening to him, is to hard to bare, and I wrench my hands away from his. "I thought I mattered more to you than your crown." Without looking back, I storm out.

 _A month or more._ What could he possibly be doing, for a month or more? And something he can't tell _me_ , either? Whenever I start to believe Cal really did chose me over that stupid crown, he goes and does something…. Why do I even care? Why do I even try? What makes me keep holding on? I didn't have to choose this life. I didn't have to chose any of this. And yet I did.

I blink angry tears out of my eyes. Screw this. I love Cal. I really do. But this isn't the life I thought I'd have with him.

Suddenly, guilt washes over me. So many people have it much, much worse. Some many people are hurt, dead, or alone. I'm sure this isn't how Maven thought things would end, either.

Maven. The name rattles through me. Thoughts, images, flash through my head reality around me blurs. I brace myself for the worst, ready to see the terrors I believed were done plaguing me. But it's not visions of battle, or death, grief, or captivity. Kind blue eyes meet my gaze, as a boy's warm hand reaches out and grips mine. He smiles, reassuringly. The vision fades, as quickly as it appeared.

And I'm struck by an urge to go see him, despite how many times I've told myself it's a bad idea.

As always, the cold of the cells hits me first. Are we no better than him? Locking him up like he did to me? But he did worse things. But I did things too. Terrible things. I'm sure we're all monsters. Cal and I are just the one who ended up on top.

His blue eyes track me as I near him. But besides his eyes, he is still.

It's been a while since I last saw him. And he looks considerably worse. One eye looks blackened, and silver blood, dry and fresh, coats parts of his face, arms, and legs.

"Come to answer my question?" He whispers horsley.

I shake my head.

"Doesn't daring brother worry when you scamper off to visit me?"

Despite his beaten appearance, his spirit seems to have gotten a boost.

I ignore his question, and respond with my own. "What did they do to you?"

"So now you care."

His words hit my like a slap. I don't know if I should feel pity or anger.

He reads my expression easily. "Low blow, I know."

 _What did they do to him?_ I wonder. He seems delirious, when he should be nearly unconscious from the pain of his wounds. "Did they drug you?"

"Is that what it was?" He laughs, but it quickly turns into a cough. A few drops of silver blood fly from his mouth. "Maybe it's the dehydration. Or yeah, could be the stuff they started shooting me up with."

" _Maven._ "

"That's the first time anyone's called me by my name. In a long time."

"What?"

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"No. And not while you're like this."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to get my healer, my maids to clean me up?" He tries to laugh again, but let's out a violent cough that sends more blood flying.

"They were going to kill you."

"Wow, that got dark fast," he mutters

"They were going to kill you, but I stopped them." With that final sentence, I trudge back to my quarters, and collapse in a heap, hot tears spilling from my eyes. This is what's become of us. Cal, who can no longer trust me. Maven, who's bordering on the edge of insanity. And me, barely holding it together.


	5. Roses

Cal leaves tonight. And I still know nothing. I know I should take advantage of being here alone. He won't be able to be my voice of reason. I could go into the city, explore, visit Kilorn, visit my family. My family. I'm struck by a longing to be back with them, moving from rebel base to rebel base, always having them nearby. I haven't seen them for months, haven't spoken to them for _months._ That's what I'll do. I'll visit my family. No one cares if I'm gone for a bit, anyway.

Cal tries his best to spend more time with me during the day, finally feeling guilty that he's planning to leave for a month or more. He stops me from going to the training room after breakfast, and instead takes me to the gardens.

We weave through imacculate heges, and perfectly groomed flower beds, interspersed with extrafagant fountains and statues. The scent of flowers is overwhelming, and probably fake. Although they're plants, their anything but natural, honed into perfection by the greenies. It bothers me, but I try not to let it show. Cal's making an effort, I should appreciate that.

"So…" He says. "How are you?"

"Better, now that you've finally managed to convince your grandmother Norta doesn't need any heirs quite yet." I force a smile, trying to create some light conversation.

Cal laughs. "Yes, that's quite a relief, isn't it."

We walk in silence for a bit, slowly, as I take in the royal gardens. I've been here before, and it's beauty amazed me. But now, it just seems too perfect. Too beautiful. All this, to please the silvers. When only a few miles away, reds struggled and died. Starved, and fought for the tiniest chance at a better life. A false hope, until now.

Cal suddenly stops by one of the many beds of flowers, stoops, and picks one. As he holds it up, I realize it's some variety of rose. The red of the petals contrasts sharply on his pale skin. A trickle of silver runs down the stem, and I realized, despite the greenie's meticulous grooming of this place, they left the thorns on these roses.

Cal notices me staring at the small trickle of blood, and lets out a small, sad sounding laugh. "You're wondering why there are still thorns, right?" He asks, and I nod. "This is Maven's garden." His voice cracks, and he pauses, looking to see my reaction. Thankfully, my face doesn't show a glimmer of emotion, and seems to pass his inspection, as he continues. "He didn't want," Cal pauses again, memory clearly causing him pain. "He didn't want it to be _changed._ How do I say this? He - Maven - didn't want the flowers to be _tainted_ by silver influence. He never let the greenies near them. He didn't even let the nymph's water them. When he was younger, he actually tended them himself, until Elara decided it wasn't _princely_." He sneers when he mentions Elara's name, and does nothing to mask his hatred.

Despite how Maven's behavior towards the garden might seem peculiar to Cal, I feel like I understand. Living with that monster, his _mother_ , he must know what it feels like to be "tainted" by silver ability. Made into to something you're not, just to please others. "You've kept them safe, haven't you." I say softly to Cal. "The flowers." He says nothing, but nods slightly. I'm not the only one haunted by ghosts from the past. Cal hands me the rose, and silently, I take it. I was stupid in thinking that healing the brand, ignoring, forgetting everything, would help me reach peace. The thorns of a thousand roses squeeze around my heart as I struggle to breathe. I will never be whole again. The my wounds are still there, healed in the physical sense, but not really. Visible only to me, but everyone has their own scars. Cal, Maven, Farley, Cameron, everyone. And they live on. And so will I. I may be broken, a charred out shell of who I was, but this is the new me. And maybe this broken world needs a broken leader. Maybe then it can finally be healed.

When Cal says goodbye to me, there is no trace of the cut from the rose thorn. As with everything, he had it healed. Erased it from existence, shoved it away. Never really fixing the real problem. Just covering it up, glossing it over. He might be able to live like that, but I surely can't. Not anymore, and never again. Healing the brand, healing the thorn prick, trying to forget about Maven, it will only make it worse.


End file.
